


What The Hell Am I Doing Here

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bossuet meets Grantaire and Joly on Halloween. By the time the sun rises, the three are inseparable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What The Hell Am I Doing Here

**Author's Note:**

> So last night at Game Night I totally got drunk off of apple cider mimosas (& a "wine mimosa" 0/10 don't ever mix leftover champagne with wine) & wrote this. Thought about waiting until closer to Halloween but hopefully I'll have a couple more things to post by then~ 
> 
> Inspired by [this](http://darlingdrinkerofdreams.tumblr.com/post/131469439517/some-spooky-scary-halloween-prompts-for-otps-or) post. Title from Radiohead's Creep because I could. 
> 
> Pre-Les Amis, but you can see everyone starting to come together.

The key to getting completely wasted was to do so as quickly as possible. Parties weren’t fun unless you considered your actions after you’ve already done them. To nurse a drink was to endure awkwardness until the party started to wear down and, thank you, but no. Bossuet was not about that.

As soon as he stepped into the dorm room he downed two jägerbombs and a disgustingly lukewarm beer.

“What are you supposed to be?” asked a girl whose tits threatened to fall out of her skimpy Care Bear costume. She was the pink one with the rainbow which meant god knows what.

“A formal apology.” He told her, opening his suit jacket to show the paperwork he had painstakingly copied onto an old white button down shirt.

She raised her eyebrows and scanned the words for a moment—they were the result of a law class he was accidentally enrolled in and went to for shits and giggles because by the time the university could correct it, it was too late to enroll in another class or drop out without penalty (he was sure this school had it in for him but transferring would mostly likely be an even bigger nightmare than he faced already). “I don’t get it.” She said and Bossuet sighed and dropped onto the floor.

They were squeezed into a dorm room, the only decorations were the built in shelving unit, built in sink and a turn table/stereo set up. Bossuet didn’t know where the hell the bed was hidden—some adjacent dorm room most likely but whatever. There were black lights in this one and he was going to fucking rock this Halloween party. Resting his head against the wall, he let the music—mostly a distant throbbing—overtake him for several long minutes.

“Hey mate—take this.” Bossuet cracked open his eye to see his friend thrust a drink into his hand. He took a sip—orange juice, red bull and a truly vile combination of alcohols. As a firm believer of not _not_ getting drunk until the party was over, he took several long sips. Rainbow Care Bear had left the room at some point and Bossuet pushed down the nagging question of how long he had been sitting on the floor and if he had already reached his limit (which would honestly be a fucking tragedy because this party fucking blew).

Several feet away from him in the middle of the room, the makeshift dance floor, a guy in a Heineken t-shirt and tap shoes was tap dancing to the top 40’s. Which song it was, exactly, was already out of Bossuet’s grasp. He watched the kid go for a minute before he put together the shirt and the tap shoes.

Beer on Tap.

Bossuet chucked and took another sip of the drink. Oh god, please let that be intentional. It was great. The funniest thing he had heard all night.

“Hey, Boss.” Came a voice directly in front of him and Bossuet realized he had shut his eyes again without meaning to.

“What?” he groaned without bothering to open his eyes. His half-finished drink was taken from him and he let it go willingly. It really was fucking disgusting.

“We’re going for snacks, wanna come?”

“Ugh.” Bossuet sighed and shook his head, “Fuck no.”

A pat on the head and then he was left alone. Good. Now he could concentrate on figuring out how he could get off the spinning, tilting ride he found himself stuck on.

The music was loud and the room kept drifting to the left before it spun about around and threatened to dip him into the ground. On one of the dips, someone brushed up next to him as they sat with an audible thud.

Bossuet cracked open an eyelid to eye who had decided to sit nearly on top of him.

It was Beer On Tap.

“You’ve been sitting by yourself for a while now. You alright?” He asked, breathless, as if he had just gotten done laughing.

“Friends went to the all night café around the corner.”

“And left you alone? What dicks. Can you even stand?”

“Listen. _Beer-On-Tap_. I could probably stand better than you right now.”

“Holy shit—you’re the only one who’s gotten it.”

Bossuet laughed darkly and raised an eyebrow, “What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It’s a goddamn tragedy is what it is.” Beer-On-Tap complained before he pushed himself up and held out a hand. “Come on, all this bass is giving me a fucking headache.” He shouted over the music and the wannabe DJ, dressed up as some skanky Christmas deity, flipped him off. Bossuet took the offered hand and let him drag him to his feet.

Out in the hall, the bass was graciously muted but they could hear different tempos coming from other rooms, which fucked with Bossuet’s head because it couldn’t decide with beat to follow.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Beer-On-Tap asked, “I’m in a flat a couple blocks away. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Bossuet squinted at him, trying to judge his intent but as he did so, Beer-On-Tap started tap dancing absentmindedly to what sounded like Tswift. He didn’t believe at love at first sight but he fucking loved this kid. “Do you have chips?” he blurted out, the distant memory of his friends going for snacks suddenly haunting him.

He raised an eyebrow but then shrugged,“Oui.”

Bossuet nodded and started down the hall. “Let’s fucking go then.”

“So, _Formal Apology_. What’s your major?” Beer-On-Tap asked, linking arms and guiding him to the elevator.

“Right now? Pre-law, I think. It’s meant to be Astrophysics though.”

“Uh—“ he started, pressing the button for the ground floor.

“The paperwork got fucked up.” Bossuet told him, waving his free arm in the air. “I happens with me. Bad luck. Born a black cat.”

“…are you a formal apology because that’s what the school owes you.” Beer-On-Tap asked quietly. Bossuet turned to look at him and a wave of bitterness washed over him. This fucking guy _got it_. He got it like no one else did.

Without really thinking about it, Bossuet leaned over and kissed him.

Beer-On-Tap froze under him and the elevator doors opened with a soft ding.

“Oops.” Came a voice on the other side and Bossuet pulled away to see a guy dressed in a black cat suit stepping out of their way.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” He blurted out because of fucking course they were a black fucking cat and Beer-on-Tap laughed.

“Jolllly.” He said, “There you are.”

“Holy shit, R! So this is where you’ve gotten to!” Black Cat laughed, reaching out and dragging him out of the elevator.

“You know this bad luck black cat.” Bossuet demanded.

Beer-On-Tap laughed as he pulled Bossuet out of the elevator with him. The doors shut behind them and dinged softly as the elevator rose again. “Of course I do. He’s my best mate. Come on, Jolllly. We’re taking him back to the apartment. He’s been abandoned by his friends and we can’t leave him alone, can we?”

Bossuet felt this Jolllly look him up and down but when he looked at him, he was innocently looking to Beer-on-Tap, “I guess he can join out scary movie marathon.”

Beer-on-Tap took both Bossuet and Jolllly’s arms and led them out of the dorm. “We’re a few blocks away, near the other campus. When he says scary movies, he means the movies that scare us the most. You’re more than welcome to add your own addition if you’re still conscious.”

 

*

 

Bossuet fell in love that night. Jolllly’s pick was Finding Nemo. He spent half the movie complaining, using Bossuet’s back as a shield. “I really hate fish.” He explained. “I fucking— _hate_ —them. There’s a reason I don’t have gills.”

Beer-On-Tap’s choice was the first five minutes of Cloverfield (which turned out to be too much for all three of them—Bossuet in particular got queasy over the shaky camera angle) and he finally settled on Thelma and Louise. A double suicide was too much for him. Bossuet respected that.

Beer-On-Tap turned to him as the credits began to roll. “What’s your pick? The most terrifying movie you can think of.”

The words tumbled from his lips before he fully acknowledged them. “The Normal Heart.”

Both of them stared at him in silence for a long moment. Then Jolllly fell over and hugged him about the waist. “Holy fuck,” he whispered, “holy fuck.”

Next to them, Beer-On-Tap twisted around so that he could see the clock. “Good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” Bossuet and Jolllly chorused.

“It’s no long Halloween.”

“Oh no.” Jolllly whined, dragging it out for an impressive twenty seconds.

“Good news, it’s November first so we’re watching Book of Life!”

Jolllly sputtered in Bossuet’s lap, flung himself to his feet and darted into his room.

“He’s got the DVD” Beer-On-Tap explained.

Jolllly returned with a visible skip in his step which was twenty different kinds of adorable. Bossuet wanted to keep the both of them, especially when they both cuddled up on either side of him and didn’t wake him up when he fell asleep before Maria left.

 

*

 

“Well, duh, he needs new friends. But listen. He _has_ new friends. Joly and I have adopted him.”

Bossuet groaned and lifted his head. “What time is it. Where’s my phone. Where the fuck am I.”

“A little after ten. R’s on it. Our apartment.” was the grumbled response from directly next to him. The black cat from last night was curled up on the floor in no less than three blankets, one of which he shared with Bossuet. “It rang a couple minutes ago. If you’re quiet you can hear whoever’s on the other line. They haven’t stopped shouting once.”

“Oh good.” R/Beer-On-Tap turned around to look at him. “Bossuet’s awake. Your friend hasn’t given his name but I’ve given him our address and he’s coming to pick you up. I expect we’ll be able to hear when he gets close. He’s pissed he didn’t come out with you last night. He might have already murdered the ones who did.”

“Aw.” Bossuet sighed, “Is that Enjolras? Tell him I didn't really like them that much anyway.”

“Courfeyrac’s friend Enjolras?” Black Cat/Joly asked.

“Courfeyrac?”

“Mrs. Claus from last night? He was the shitty DJ playing entirely too much Tswift? He’s the one who called me saying you looked sick.”

“That’s nice.” Bossuet told him, pulling some of Joly’s blankets closer to him so he could go back to bed.

“Do you want someibuprofen? I do.” Joly untangled himself from the blankets and then dumped them unceremoniously over Bossuet.

Bossuet didn’t sit up until Joly manhandled him into an upright position. He handed him a pill and a glass of blue sports drink. Bossuet took the pill and then watched as Grantaire’s face lit up at something Enjolras had shouted—it echoed in from outside as well which meant they had about five more seconds of having a functioning front door. “I’m glad the adoption last night was mutual.” He told the room at large.

Joly laughed as he picked up the remote control and pressed play. The others must have paused it shortly after Bossuet fell asleep and kept the TV on all night. Manolo’s frozen face suddenly shot to life and Bossuet made himself comfortable as Grantaire raced to make a valiant attempt to save his front door. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus:  
> Bossuet introduces Grantaire and Joly as his best friends.  
> Enjolras gets roped into watching the second half of the Book of Life because when he realized in the early hours of the morning Bossuet was missing, he had been terrified he was dead somewhere and didn’t get any sleep at all.  
> Next year, Joly, Bossuet & Grantaire are Manolo, Maria, and Joaquin. Grantaire doesn’t stop singing Creep. There are bets if Enjolras did, in fact, make him stop by making out with him.  
> A couple years later when Enjolras/Grantaire and J/B/M are together, Courfeyrac calls himself the best match maker ever & then gets teased for eternity for his shitty Mrs. Claus costume which he had previously successfully buried under countless other bad decisions.  
> Bossuet gets used constantly as an example for What Not to Do While Drinking.


End file.
